


never was a quitter

by astrolesbian



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Getting Together, Jealousy, M/M, something written in 15 minutes? in MY ao3 account? it's more likely than you'd think!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 12:33:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8285998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrolesbian/pseuds/astrolesbian
Summary: Jim’s initial reaction to people smiling at Bones was usually to check them for a fever.That doesn't exactly seem like the most effective course of action right now, though.





	

When Jim finally got back to the room after classes finished, Bones was lying on his back on his bed, his shirt lying in a heap on the ground and his jeans still on, like he’d tried to get undressed then given up halfway through. And then fallen asleep.

Jim allowed himself one second to stare longingly at Bones’ bare chest before clearing his throat to announce his presence.

“Okay,” Jim said, “we’re going out tonight.”

Bones cracked open one eye to look at him, his eyebrows going haywire. “You’re kidding me, right?” he said, his voice gravelly from sleep.

“ _Bones,_ ” Jim said, in his most long-suffering, pleading tone of voice. “Today was fucking awful, and I want to get really drunk.”

The thing about Bones was that he was so good at taking care of other people that he usually just plain forgot to take care of himself, and his shoulders and back were reaching new _levels_ of tense because of it. And since Jim was the _best friend ever,_ he was going to make sure that Bones went out tonight and had some fun. The only problem was that convincing Bones to go out actually took some skill, and it mostly hinged on Bones thinking that Jim was the one who was desperately in need of booze.

Which, to be fair, Jim was pretty much always desperately in need of booze, so convincing Bones that Jim needing a drink was _totally the only reason they were going out_ wasn’t too hard.

“Come on,” he said. “You don’t have any shifts at work tomorrow, I checked. And we haven’t hung out in forever.”

“We live in the same room.” Bones looked entirely unimpressed at how thoughtful Jim had been, looking up his schedule and everything.

“Semantics,” Jim said, waving a hand. “Come on. I miss you, Bonesie.”

“Don’t call me that,” Bones complained, but sat up. “Give me five minutes.”

“Yes!” Jim said, punching the air and beaming at him. “We can go to that one bar you like, the one with the good bourbon.”

“You should have led with the bourbon, kid,” Bones said, giving Jim a small smile as he tugged on a shirt. “I would have said yes _way_ quicker.”

“I’m offended,” Jim said. “Here I was thinking the toppling point was the pleasure of my company.”

Bones didn’t even dignify that with an answer, but it was okay. Jim was used to that.

 

“So then she’s like,” Jim said, waving a hand in the air, “ _Kirk, no one cares about your stupid opinion, we need to get rid of this cat,_ and I was like? So we’re really calling things stupid now? Like, when we were six? Okay, cool, and,” he glanced down at his drink, noticing it was empty. It had probably been that way for a couple minutes, but he hadn’t noticed. Bones had been laughing along with his story, his eyes crinkling up, and it had been really, really distracting.

“If you’re getting another round, get me one too,” Bones said, still snickering. Jim's at least 85% sure he's only laughing because he's a little tipsy, but it doesn't matter. He's happy, and Jim is basking in it. “And then come back and finish the story. You can’t leave it there.”

That was definitely sarcasm, but Jim didn't even care, he just grinned and jumped up. “Your wish is my command, Bones.” He bowed, ridiculously and elaborately, just to see Bones laugh again, and then walked off to the bar to get them some more drinks, humming to himself absently as he did so.

He and Bones hadn’t really hung out in a while -- he hadn’t been lying about that, earlier. Sure, they lived together, and they studied together a lot, but studying had been _all_ they’d done for the past couple of weeks. Stupid midterms.

Whatever, though. They were hanging out now, and Jim’s stupid crush on Bones (crush? Love? Really-wanting-to-fuck? Something like that) wasn’t getting in the way too much, and --

And there was someone standing next to Bones at the bar.

Jim’s initial reaction to people smiling at Bones was usually to check them for a fever, since Bones had a personality like a porcupine. Prickly, and curled up in a little ball, and you really had to work for it to make him smile if you’d just met him.

But Bones was smiling back, raising his eyebrows in his “intrigued” way and not his “you’re a fucking idiot” way. So. Okay. That was happening.

Jim really hadn’t been planning on confronting any uncomfortable truths tonight, but he had to consider just then that maybe he didn’t know Bones as well as he thought he did, if Bones was perfectly willing to smile at complete strangers like that.

The person next to Bones shifted, twirling hair around her finger and smiling, and Jim’s hands stiffened on the glasses he was holding. Complete strangers, maybe not. _Hot_ strangers, however, maybe --

Bones was _flirting_ with her, he realized, and the thought left a sour taste in his mouth. He’d never seen Bones flirt before, when they were out at bars like this -- he’d half entertained the thought that maybe Bones didn’t _want_ to flirt with anyone, didn’t want to pick up some girl or guy or person in a bar for a hookup when he already had Jim to laugh with, and drink with, and go home with.

Jim took a gulp of his own glass of bourbon. Fucking stupid, thinking that, thinking for even a _second_ that someone as great as _Bones_ could be satisfied with someone like _him_ \--

The girl talking to Bones at the bar was still smiling at him, leaning her hip against the bar and batting her long lashes. And Bones was still smiling back. Still fucking _smiling,_ like it didn’t matter, like Jim hadn’t worked for _weeks_ to get a true, gentle smile from Bones, one that _mattered_ \--

Jim felt that old itch on his knuckles, and the feeling in his gut of wanting adrenalin, of wanting a bar fight. He tossed down the rest of his bourbon instead, wishing it would all just hit him at once so he could feel okay about going off and sitting in a corner and getting smashed while Bones went home with the pretty girl he was talking to. Because Bones didn’t like Jim, and he’d never liked Jim, and he never would like Jim, and --

Jim took a gulp of Bones’ drink, too, for good measure, and watched as the girl next to Bones blushed and bit her lip in response to what Bones was saying to her.

Christ, he could imagine it, too, _had_ imagined it; Bones smiling, slow and easy, his voice low and drawling, saying _sweetheart, sugar, darlin’_.

‘Course, when he’d (half-guiltily) imagined all this, he’d always pictured _himself_ as the one Bones was looking at like that, but.

Whatever.

He could be a mature adult about this. He was, like, 70% sure that that was possible.

He could go out, and let Bones have the room, or something.

He could --

He looked down at the glasses he was holding, both of which were now empty, and whirled around to go back to the bar. He could get Bones another drink.

“Another round, please,” he yelled in the general direction of the bartender, who gave him a thumbs up, and then Jim leaned against the bar to wait, very determinedly not looking back at where Bones and the girl were standing.

He attempted not to think about it, but that was kind of a lost cause, expecially with two more drinks in him.

(She’d sit down in the chair Jim had left, lean forward on the table, Bones leaning in, too -- they’d kiss -- they’d -- )

He scrubbed at his eyes and groaned. Great. Just fucking fantastic.

 

By the time he made it back over with the drinks, steeling himself to smile, say _I’ll leave you guys to it,_ the girl was gone, and Bones was alone.

“Jesus, I was about to come look for you,” Bones said, taking the bourbon out of his hand and taking a sip. “Took you long enough.”

“Where’s --” Jim started, and then shook his head, sitting back down, hating himself for being happy that the girl had left Bones alone. “Never mind.”

“Finish the story,” Bones said, grinning at him in that open, honest way of his that Jim was half in love with, and Jim attempted to paste a smile onto his face, to dredge up his enthusiasm from earlier.

But all he could think about is the girl leaning against the wall, twirling her hair around her finger, and Bones looking back at her --

He shook his head.

“I’m tired,” he said. “Think I’m gonna head back.”

They’ve been here for about two hours. It was a plausible excuse.

Bones furrowed his brows anyway. “You okay, Jim?”

“Peachy,” Jim said, and stood. “You can stay if you want, I don’t want to drag you off home. I just -- midterms, is all. I didn’t realize how tired I was.”

“You never could fucking take care of yourself,” Bones grumbled, but he was still looking at Jim in a searching, careful way, like he was diagnosing a disease. Jim stood up as fast as he could.

Bones stayed sitting for a moment, just looking at him, then tossed back the bourbon in one gulp.

“Guess I’ll call it a night, too,” he said, “but you owe me the rest of the story tomorrow, kid.”

 

Jim didn’t speak the whole way home. He couldn’t.

Every time he thought about opening his mouth, all that threatened to come out was _you were flirting with that girl and I really hated it and I want you to be flirting with me --_

Best to stay silent.

 

“Okay, something’s up,” Bones said, two days later, shutting the door and crossing his arms.

“What?” Jim said. “Nothing’s up. Nothing is ever up. What’s up? Nothing.”

“Shut your mouth,” Bones said. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

He looked incredibly pissed off, which Jim really shouldn’t be finding hot, if they were going to make it through this conversation.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Jim said, slightly more weakly, mostly due to distractions in the form of Bones being pissed and hot and having _stupid broad shoulders._

Then all the fight went out of Bones, suddenly, the tough edges of his shoulders and crossed arms melting into a weirdly vulnerable slump. He fell back against the door, and closed his eyes, and Jim’s heart stuck in his throat.

“Jim,” he said. “Just -- stop lying to me, okay?” He pushed a hand through his hair. “I can always tell.”

Jim didn’t answer him for a minute, his heart beating too loud and his mouth unable to work. He’d never -- _never_ \-- seen Bones like this, not covering up his concern with anger or complaining, just looking tired, and sad, and like he wanted something that he didn’t think Jim would let him have.

When Bones sighed out again, and straightened up, hand on the doorknob as if to leave, Jim found his voice.

“It was -- at the bar, that girl. You were. Y’know.” He made a vague hand gesture which could probably describe anything from talking to jerking off, and _wow_ not a good thought to have right now. “And I saw, and. She was obviously flirting with you, which, fine, whatever, and you were flirting back, and I just.” He swallowed hard, and looked up. Bones’ eyes were wide and hazel and confused, but at least they weren’t hurt anymore. Small mercies, Jim supposed.

“ _That’s_ what’s got you so upset?” Bones said, incredulous. Jim crossed his arms and looked away.

“Look, don’t fucking laugh at me, okay,” he snapped. “I’ve already laughed at myself enough for a million people, because it’s _stupid,_ okay, why the hell should I be jealous when you don’t even --” He cut himself off. “Whatever, I told you, let’s go back to normal now.”

He stood, except that Bones was standing in front of the door, so his only options were jumping out of a window or locking himself in the bathroom.

Okay, bathroom it was, even if option one sounded pretty good right now. Considering, you know, he basically told Bones he wanted to fuck him into next Tuesday and then stick around after for all the feelings and shit, and probably ruined the best friendship he’d ever had by being a self-centered dick.

He attempted to get through the bathroom door without sacrificing his dignity any more than necessary, and Bones grabbed his wrist.

“Let go of me.”

“ _Jim.”_

“Stop it, let go, I’m --”

“You’re a goddamn idiot is what you are,” Bones said, exasperated. “Listen to me for a second, wouldja?”

Jim considered saying _no_ and wrenching free and locking the bathroom door, but Bones was looking at him almost pleadingly, and he was a sucker for looks like that.

“What?”

“So you’re mad ‘cause that girl was flirting with me,” Bones said, and Jim almost left right then and there, because if Bones was laughing at him, he was going to fucking --

Bones grabbed his shoulder with his free hand and shook him.

“ _Jim,”_ he said. “Look at me. Yes, she was flirting. It barely lasted a minute before I told her to fuck off.”

Jim raised his eyebrows.

“Politely,” Bones added.

“You’re never polite,” Jim said, his limbs buzzing, though less with _get out of here right fucking now_ energy and more with _Bones is really close to me_ energy.

“That’s beside the point,” Bones said. “I told her to go, Jim. I wasn’t interested.”

Jim looked away again. “Great. Fantastic. Can you let me go now?”

“You goddamn insufferable son of a bitch,” Bones said, and then kissed him, hard, his hand loosening on Jim’s wrist so his thumb could run over the skittering beat of Jim’s pulse. His other hand, the one holding Jim’s shoulder, slid up to cup his face, running a thumb over his cheek.

And also, yeah, _Bones. Kissing him_. In case that wasn’t clear.

Jim suddenly realized he was standing there like an idiot and not kissing back, and _hell_ no, he was not wasting this. So he snapped out of it, and grabbed the front of Bones’ shirt, and sent a silent prayer to whatever-the-fuck that Bones wouldn’t regret this.

And it seems to be working, because Bones just keeps _kissing_ him -- letting go of his wrist to slide one arm around his waist, pulling them close together. Jim rocked up against him helplessly, and Bones bit down on Jim’s lip, and --

And just as it was getting good, Bones pulled back.

 _Goddamn fucking tease,_ Jim thought, but it wasn’t quite as angry or quite as sexually frustrated as it normally would have been, because Bones was grinning at him in that open, happy way that Jim hardly ever saw.

“She asked if I wanted to go home with her,” Bones said, conversationally. “Said she saw me across the bar and thought I was hot.”

Despite having literally just made out with Bones, Jim still felt absurdly jealous.

“And you know what I told her?” Bones said, and leaned back in; brushed his mouth, light as a feather, against Jim’s neck. Jim fought the urge to lean closer, to get this whole thing going again.

He wanted to hear this.

“I told her _no,_ ” Bones murmured. “I told her there was somebody else I had my eye on -- for a while now, actually. I told her I wanted him so fucking bad nobody else could compare.”

“Bones,” Jim said, and he felt a grin against his neck, felt Bones biting him, somehow still gentle as anything.

“He’s just a fucking idiot,” Bones said, still so fucking _conversational_ about it, like they weren’t clutching each other so tight they might need to worry about breathing. “And he never picked up on it.”

“Maybe he was scared he’d fuck it up,” Jim said, and Bones pulled back and looked him straight in the eyes.

“Goddamn fucking idiot,” Bones repeated, but there was something so soft in it that Jim almost wanted to laugh, or cry, or neither -- Jesus. He didn’t know what.

“Back at’cha, Bones,” he said, instead, and Bones grinned.

The second kiss was even better than the first. No uncertainty, just this -- just _them._ Just Bones slipping his hand under Jim’s T-shirt and Jim’s fingers in Bones’ hair, kissing until Bones’s back was pressed against their door.

“Jesus,” Jim sighed, pulling away.

“Took you long enough, darlin’,” Bones said. “Seriously. Moping for two days because some girl flirted with me and I told her to take a hike?”

“No making fun of me,” Jim said. “I will walk away, right now.”

“ _Sure_ you would,” Bones said, his voice dipping down a little deeper, a little further into his drawl. Jim closed his eyes, attempting to fight off the wave of heat that sent over him.

“Unfair,” he said. “That’s cheating.”

“Don’t see you walking away,” Bones said, and kissed him again.

Jim grinned into Bones’ mouth, because goddamn, he could get used to this.

(Either way, Bones definitely won’t be making fun of him later.)

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> based off this thread on twitter https://twitter.com/astrolesbian/status/786663794453934080 and dedicated to my star trek mutuals, you know who you are
> 
> anyway jim and bones are incredibly dumb, and i hate them


End file.
